Opening Acts

  TruthSeeker

  by C.E. Murphy

  "--once upon a time, not so long ago, it was driven by a little old lady I know personally. She drove it to the store weekly, that's it, so its four thousand miles are gentle ones, ladies. It's just two years old and has all the extras. You won't find a better deal than this here or anywhere else. Now, I know the sticker price is eighteen five and you're not looking to spend quite that much." The salesman leaned out from beneath his umbrella to get a better look at the V of Kelly Richards' T-shirt, and smiled. "It's cutting my own throat, but I think I can knock it down to seventeen flat. It's a bargain, ladies, a real bargain."

  "Lara?" Kelly folded her arms beneath her breasts.

  For a moment Lara found herself studying her friend's cleavage, though less avidly than the salesman had. Kelly had a lifetime's experience in using her assets to distract and command, whereas Lara's own figure had been described as more of a pirate's treasure: a sunken chest. Clinical curiosity made her wonder what it would be like to take control of a situation just by inhaling deeply.

  "Earth to Lara, hello?" Kelly snapped her fingers under Lara's nose. "Are you in there?"

  "Of course I am." Lara turned her attention back to the yellow Mazda Miata the salesman hawked. Or, rather, to the patter he'd shared, the quick flow of words meant to distract and impress in the same way Kelly's T-shirt was. Lara thought Kelly had taken the upper hand in dedication to distraction, though. It was too cold, with too much promise of serious rain, to be out without a coat, and the salesman's gaze kept wandering to Kelly's chest instead of the vehicle lot. "And he's lying."

  Offense flew across the man's face and he clapped a hand over his heart. "How could I lie to two such lovely ladies as yourselves? But all right, all right, maybe a Miata isn't your style. Something with a little more kick to it, maybe something that makes a real impression when you pull up? I've got a Ford 450 over here, it gets thirty miles to the gallon--"

  He broke off again as Lara and Kelly both turned incredulous looks on him. "All right, all right, maybe twenty-five in the city. But I can see discerning women like yourselves want better gas mileage than that. I've got just the thing for you. This way, please." He strode down the lot, Kelly at his side and Lara trailing behind, staying just close enough to overhear his routine. Kelly cast regular glances at her, and Lara shook her head each time.

  Finally, exasperated, Kelly pointed at a ten-year-old Nissan with a four thousand dollar price tag. "What about that one?"

  A spatter of rain hit the salesman's umbrella and rolled off in a pathetic dribble to match his expression. "Decent gas mileage, but the engine was overhauled by an amateur."

  "How's it run?"

  He muttered, "Fine," and Lara nodded.

  Kelly's smile lit up. "I'll take it."